Living with Santana Lopez
by Justified12
Summary: AU. Brittany didn't want a new 'Mom'. And she especially didn't want a new sister. But that's exactly what she got. Brittana. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Brittana are step-sisters. So yeah... just a heads up because that's a bit risque.**

* * *

_**November 2**__**nd**__**, 2011**_

I'm not going to pull any punches. My life completely sucks right now.

The worst part? It wasn't always like this. Things only started to get bad when my Dad got remarried almost three months ago.

Even though my Mom died when I was 10... and now, I'm almost 18, I can't help but feel that this is all so wrong. I'm not supposed to have another 'mother'. My Dad isn't supposed to sleep in the same bed with another woman every night and call her 'honey' and 'sweetie' and kiss her cheek before he leaves for work in the morning.

When he first started dating again, a few years after my mom died, the relationships only lasted a couple months. He didn't make a lot of money but every woman would fawn over his typical, rugged good looks and practically dangle their ring fingers in front of him and hoping he would cave. That was, until they met me. And I did my absolute best to give them the cold shoulder and make every family outing a horrid, uncomfortable mess until they ran away like puppies with their tails between their legs.

It's not like I'm usually a bitchy person. In fact, the whole act actually gives me this really weird tingly feeling in my stomach, like I want to get sick or something.

But that's not the point.

The point is that I managed to scare away every woman that my Dad showed interest in. And even though I felt really, really guilty at times, and Dad got kinda mad when he figured out the little game I was playing and the silent treatment I gave whenever he left me alone with one of his dates, there was this wonderful sense of relief that came with knowing I wouldn't have to ever pretend and call some stranger 'Mom'. It was all for a good cause.

Except one day, he met a woman that just wouldn't scare away. Her name was Maribel Lopez.

My Dad fell head over heels for the strong, passionate woman from day one and there was nothing I could do, no sarcastic gesture or disgusted face I could make while his back was turned that managed to faze her even slightly. She wore a confident smirk and seemed to like me even more each time I tried to push her away from our safe little bubble.

Weeks quickly became months. For the first time, things were getting really serious. And I was totally screwed.

If I had to be honest, Maribel wasn't that bad. She was always really nice to me and made my Dad _super_ happy. And if I had to say it, she was one of the most beautiful women I think I'd ever seen. Well, that was until I eventually met her daughter, Santana.

But beauty isn't everything...

I guess Maribel and Dad had known that the two of us wouldn't get along and that's why they waited so long to introduce us. But then, when they started to talk about marriage and moving in together, they knew it was time. The encounter became inevitable.

To say our first meeting was a disaster would be a total understatement.

Santana was the same age as me and with us both being only children our entire lives, suddenly facing the idea of having a sibling was bound to cause some serious problems. She glared at me with cold eyes and I was more than willing to return the unfriendly gesture. We forced greetings and quiet pleasantries while our parents were around but the second they left the room, her face turned to me, dangerous and threatening.

"Listen blondie, I don't need a new Dad and I sure as hell don't need a new sister." She scoffed, her nose turned up in disgust. "This is all going to be over and done with before you can say _prenuptial agreement_... so don't get any ideas about us being besties or buddies or any of that ridiculous, Kumbaya bullshit."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Like I would. You're pretty much as creepy as the evil sea witch in _The Little Mermaid_... and I am no Ariel. So don't think you can trick me into anything. My hair isn't even red."

I remember how she just looked at me strangely and walked away. I smirked to myself. Clearly she wasn't smart enough to understand my clever insult.

I totally won that round.

But that still didn't stop my Dad from proposing. Or Maribel from accepting.

They knew Santana and I didn't get along but they still forced us to accept their decision and practically begged us to 'embrace our new family.'

The wedding came and went faster than I had hoped and before I even knew what was happening, I suddenly had to share a bedroom with a stranger who hated my guts.

Santana and I had avoided each other like the plague the whole time our parents were dating. When we did have to speak, it was all a show of polite conversation and fake smiles. Then, all of a sudden, we're stuck with each other. In the same damn room, all day, every day. Except for school, that is.

I don't think I have ever disliked anyone so much. She's just such a stubborn, spoilt little brat. It's unbelievable. When Maribel and Santana first moved into our house, I thought I would give them both a second chance. I couldn't worm my way out of a sucky situation with glares and silence this time - it was pretty much permanent... so I figured I would at least try to make the best of the situation. And while Maribel was more than pleased with my efforts, clearly, Santana didn't care in the slightest. While I smiled civilly and tried hard to be nice to her, she just seemed even angrier and bit my head off every chance she got.

After three months of trying to be sweet and gracious, I don't think anyone could blame me for giving up.

Now, we fight over everything. And I mean _everything._

Who left their clothes on the floor, whose turn it is to clean the bathroom, who left the light on or the window open... She just snaps so quickly. It's exhausting. I never know when I'm going to walk into an explosion. She always thinks she's right, she never apologizes and she has the most overconfident, snarky smile I've ever seen. Ugh! Sometimes I just want to slap that look right off her immaculate, constantly done up face.

Just because she's hot, it doesn't mean she can do or say whatever she wants. It's like nobody has ever told her 'no' before in her entire life. She just walks around like she's God's gift or something. It's absolutely infuriating.

If somebody doesn't do something about her serious attitude problem soon, I'm totally ready to move into the old tree house in our backyard.

* * *

_**November 18th, 2011**_

Santana was lying on my bed when I got home from Cheerleading practice today. We don't go to the same school or anything (she goes to some snobby private school), so at least I don't have to deal with her childish bullshit during the day. But school was never my favourite thing. I'm not that great at it and my Dad is never really happy with my grades. I try hard though and when I get home, I expect to at least be able to lie down and chill out for a while with my iPod to release some of the day's stress before her bitching and moaning starts.

Apparently, she didn't even want to give me that small pleasure anymore.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, confused as I walked into our shared bedroom (which was MY room first) and saw her spread out on my favourite floral bedspread.

"My hair was wet when I got out of the shower. I didn't want my pillows to get all soggy and gross." Santana replied calmly, not even looking up at me as she filed her nails.

"But it's fine if you wreck my bed?" I snapped, dropping my backpack on the floor heavily and crossing the room to stand next to her.

She shrugged and eyed me smugly. "It's not like there's anything you can do about it B."

"I told you not to call me that." I growled. I could feel my fists balling up by my sides and I wanted to scream at her so bad my lip was twitching. "Get off my bed, Santana. Now."

"Whatever." She rolled her eyes and crawled off the mattress. "Have fun at dumb bimbo training?" She teased, moving to sit cross legged on her own bed. "What did you learn today? How to spell _unemployment? _No, wait, you got lessons on how to do proper cartwheels without pulling stitches after a botched boob job... right?" Santana grinned. She was just so goddamn pleased with herself.

And I was fuming. I could feel my cheeks burning and for the first time in my life, I really felt the urge to punch someone in the face. I didn't care that she thought cheerleading was stupid and the girls were all just airheads and sluts.

"I think you're just jealous." I replied slowly through gritted teeth, controlling another violent surge of anger as I sat down on my bed, feeling the massive damp patch on the bottom of my pillow beneath my legs when I scooted up to rest against the headboard.

"HA!" Santana scoffed. "I may not be as _popular_ as you are at my school but hell if I would ever be seen in that ridiculous outfit." She gestured towards my cheerleading uniform with a disgusted expression. "I like to wear clothes with style. Oh and things that make me look smokin' hot."

"More like things that scream '_for sale'_." I muttered under my breath. Obviously I wasn't being quiet enough though because Santana suddenly whipped her head around to me with a venomous glare in her eyes.

"What the fuck did you just say blondie?"

"Let's put it this way..." I folded my arms over my chest defiantly. "If I saw you on the street, I wouldn't even bother to ask how much. I would just run away and hope you didn't touch me in case I got some icky sexually transmitted disease."

Her eyes went wide and she gaped at me.

I guess I should have been afraid that I went too far. Something inside of me felt really awful for saying something so mean. But I was just tired of taking her crap every day. So I stared back at her with hard eyes and waited for the inevitable screaming match to begin.

"Nobody talks to me that way, bitch. _Nobody._" Santana stood up and strolled over to me purposefully, a dark, malevolent glint in her eyes. I tried hard not to flinch. "I don't care if our parents are fucking married and you're supposed to be my _step-sister_ now or whatever. I am going to make you wish you were never born."

And before I could even comprehend what was happening, she was on me, grabbing at my hair and scratching at my face. I struggled hard to kick her off, silently thanking my years of training in dance and on the Cheerios for the muscles that allowed me to eventually push her away when we both fell to the floor. I felt a sharp sting as she slapped me viciously across the face and launched her body at me again.

"Ah! Fuck!" I grunted, throwing a knee up into her stomach and watching as she recoiled back into herself, the air knocked from her lungs. I was surprised at my own reaction. I wasn't really one for swearing like that... or being violent. I guess she must have really pissed me off.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Santana screamed, collecting herself to make another lunge just as footsteps began thudding up the stairs.

"Girls! What on earth is going on? It sounds like there's a herd of elephants stomping around up here." Maribel poked her head into our bedroom just in time to stop Santana from throwing herself at me again.

There was a long moment of tense silence as Santana and I just stared at each other, our clothes ruffled and hair sticking out at all angles. I could still feel the throbbing in my cheek from where she'd hit me.

"Nothing." I replied quietly, getting up from my spot on the floor and leaving the room.

After I'd had a shower to try and cool my temper, I went downstairs to the living room to watch TV. And that night, when I finally had to go back to our bedroom to go to sleep, Santana didn't even look up as I walked in. She just pretended that I didn't exist.

I think maybe it's better that way.

* * *

_**December 7th, 2011**_

Nothing had really changed between the two of us until yesterday. After that massive fight a few weeks ago, Santana and I barely even spoke to each other except when it was absolutely necessary or our parents forced us to be polite at the dinner table.

I figured if I kept to myself and she minded her own business, we'd be fine... at least until we went off to college and then we wouldn't have to live under the same roof ever again. Of course, there'll still be family gatherings that we'll both be expected to attend... but I'll just worry about that when I get there.

Although, the tension is getting sort of unbearable. Most of the time, I feel like I can't even relax in my own bedroom so I do my homework in the dining room and end up lying in the hammock out in the backyard when I want to just hang out. Anything to avoid that weird vibe that creeps up my spine whenever I feel her eyes studying me, hard and cold like she despises every single breath I take and couldn't think I was more silly and idiotic even if I was wearing a purple lobster with sparkly aviators on my head.

But I don't care. I'm happy with who I am. And I have plenty of friends at school who like me just fine.

Not that I think Santana could really say the same. In the whole time since she moved in, I don't think I've ever heard her talking to someone on the phone that she wasn't flirting with. And she hardly ever goes out. But I have my suspicions that she sleeps around when she does. She comes home really late at night all messed up and drunk.

And I'm pretty sure she's going out with girls too. Or at least they look like girls when I watch her say goodbye to them in our front yard. I'm not spying or anything. It just happens that our bedroom window is really close to my bed... and I can always hear their whispering and giggling when it's like 2am and everything else is dead quiet. So it's not like I can help it when I take a quick look.

Truth is, I like girls too. Not that anyone knows that. And I almost wish that Santana and I got along better so that maybe I could talk to her about what it's like to be gay.

I might be confident about my body and have heaps of friends but, I've never done anything more than kiss a boy before. And I knew straight away (even though I was only 14) that it didn't feel right... and when I got a bit older and I caught myself checking out some of the other girls in the Cheerios getting changed in the locker rooms in a less than innocent way... well, I may be kinda slow on the uptake sometimes but I'm definitely not that dumb.

I'm pretty sure that Maribel and Dad have no idea that Santana is sneaking out and sleeping with girls. And there's no way they'd know anything about me. I guess they just think we're both really picky or something. And that's why neither of us have boyfriends now.

But I must have been doing something to give myself away because for the first time in ages, Santana decided to speak up.

"You're into chicks aren't you?" She asked coolly, not removing her eyes from the magazine she was reading while she lounged on her bed.

I froze in my spot beside the wardrobe. I was picking out something to wear for a party I was going to later that week and her words caught me completely off guard. I spun around and tried to keep the telling blush from my cheeks. "What? No."

"Yeah you are. I've seen you checking out my ass. And I know you're always at the window creeping on me when I get my mack on out on the sidewalk with some fine piece of action."

I forced down a whimper of fear. Who knew that behind all those tantrums and biting insults Santana was so perceptive? "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh. Sure you don't blondie." She rolled her eyes and put down the magazine. "I don't care, you know. I might be a cold bitch but I'm not going to out you or anything. Even I'm not that cruel. So don't get your pink polka dot panties in a knot okay?"

I felt the heat rising in my face and behind my ears. How the hell did she know what color my panties were? Was she going through my drawers or something when I wasn't around? "Why do you even care?"

"I don't." She shrugged and picked up her magazine again.

"So why did you bring it up?" I asked, moving to sit on my bed. I was genuinely curious why this girl, who clearly hated everything about me, even cared to say anything about it at all.

"I just wanted to confirm my suspicions." She titled her head to the side but continued to read, unfazed.

And that was it. We haven't spoken about it again.

I honestly don't know what to think.

* * *

_**December 16th, 2011**_

I'm not sure what's going on with Santana now. She shoots me these weird looks all the time. They make me feel sorta uncomfortable. It's like she knows something about me that nobody else does.

Well, I guess she kinda does know something that no-one else does. But still. It's not just that. It's really strange and hard to explain. And I don't think I like it.

Not long after she confronted me about the whole 'being gay' thing, she started talking to me at random times. Even though there was still something really hard and guarded in her face, she occasionally said stuff about the weather or asked me whether or not I liked a band or an actress or something.

Also, I'd stopped avoiding our bedroom so much. So there were times when we'd be watching a TV show or doing our homework at the same time. And it was almost like hanging out.

I don't know if I'd call us 'friends'. Because, ew... and like I said, the conversation was pretty minimal. But I guess things have been getting better slowly. That prickly edge is starting to melt away.

And I definitely don't feel like I'm stepping on hot coals every time I accidentally catch her eye now.

I just can't shake the feeling that something still isn't right between us.

And someday soon, I would really like to feel comfortable and relaxed in my own bedroom again.

Even though I don't feel nearly as angry anymore, and I don't think she does either, that weird tension is always there.

It kinda doesn't help that I catch myself staring at her sometimes too.

* * *

_**December 19th, 2011**_

Last night.

Last night was...

I don't know.

I just don't know how it happened.

I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom when I heard Santana scream like the world was coming to an end. I quickly spat out the toothpaste in my mouth and rinsed before I ran back into our room.

"What? What's wrong?" I panicked, my gaze flickering around as I searched for the source of her horror.

"There's a fucking spider in my fucking bed!" She squealed from her position on top of the desk. She was cowering, with her legs drawn up underneath her and pointing towards her tangled covers.

I let out a laugh as I approached the red silken sheets, spotting a small black spider skittering across her pillows. I pulled a tissue from the box on the bedside table and squished it with ease. "Well... it's gone now." I smirked.

"Yeah right!" She squealed, still not moving from her spot on the desk. "Where there's one spider, there's like another hundred close by! I read all about it in like... a text book or something! They're probably building a nest in my mattress right now, ready to jump out, crawl into my ears and lay eggs in my brain as soon as I fall asleep!"

I rolled my eyes at her. "Seriously Santana? I had no idea you were such a baby."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I'm not a baby, _Brittany_. I just don't want my head to be the receptacle for gross spider orgies."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed." I laughed, climbing into my sheets and snuggling down. "Will you turn off the light when you finally stop freaking out and go to sleep?"

"What? Are you really just going to lie there? Where the hell I am supposed to sleep tonight?"

"Uh... right there?" I pointed to her bed lazily, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No way! I am not touching that arachnid infested thing until I at least get my Mom to change the sheets... " Santana whined.

"Ugh! Stop overreacting. It was like one tiny spider. It's not the monkey plague. Just go sleep on the couch downstairs if you're that paranoid."

"I can't sleep down there! I've seen people put their dirty, disgusting shoes on that thing!" She shook her head and made a face.

"Well I don't know what to tell you then." I shrugged. "Sorry."

There was a long moment of silence and I closed my eyes, settling back into my pillow and relaxing my muscles.

"Brittany?" I heard Santana's voice, suddenly timid and shy.

"Mhm?"

"Can I sleep in your bed?"

"What?" I couldn't possibly have heard her right.

She cleared her throat and repeated the same shaky phrase. "Can I... sleep in your bed?"

It felt like my brain had melted. That question made no sense whatsoever. Yeah, it was a bunch of words and yeah, it made up something that resembled a gentle request, but in no way did it fit with anything that was even close to reality.

"Really?" I heard myself ask. My voice sounded so far away.

Carefully, Santana climbed down from her perch on the desk and flicked off the light. "Yeah..." Through the darkness, I saw her bite her lip and fidget at the foot of my bed, waiting. "Is that okay?"

"Uh..." I stumbled. Was it okay? This girl, who had practically been my mortal enemy just a few short weeks ago, now wanted to lie right next to me while we slept. It was crazy talk. But, all the same, I answered. "I guess."

With a brief smile, she crawled onto the mattress and over to the other side of the bed. Shuffling beneath the covers, I heard her breathe a soft sigh. "Awesome."

I noticed that my fingers were clenching at the sheets for some reason. That weird tension was back. And something else too. Something that felt a whole lot like butterflies.

What the hell was that?

We lay in silence for long minutes until eventually, she spoke up again.

"I know I'm a bitch."

"Huh?" I felt my eyebrows scrunching as I turned slightly to look at her.

"I don't really know why I'm like this all the time... It's like, habit or some shit."

Was this Santana's attempt at a real conversation? "It's okay." I replied as nonchalantly as possible, turning away from her again. I wasn't sure I wanted to start this. Talking all serious with her was strange. And besides, it was late... and I had Cheerios practice early in the morning.

"Anyways..." She exhaled deeply. "Sorry."

My eyebrows shot up high on my forehead. An apology? Wow. I certainly hadn't expected that. I spun fully to face her. "Me too."

She was lying on her back and gave me a tiny smile.

For a few moments, we stared at each other. I wasn't sure why neither of us looked away or what the point of it was, but it happened.

Finally, Santana broke the silence. "Thanks for killing that spider by the way."

I felt myself tripping over my own thoughts again. This new _'nice Santana' _really threw me for a loop. "Yeah... Don't mention it."

The whole thing was super confusing and I decided to just turn over again so I could try and go to sleep. I could just think it over in the morning.

And thankfully, Santana went to sleep too.

* * *

_**December 22nd, 2011**_

This is just...

I have no words.

Santana keeps sneaking into my bed at night.

I don't know why. She never does anything. She never even accidentally bumps my foot or anything. I just keep waking up, and she's there, hair all messy and splayed across my pillows, mouth half open as she breathes.

It's weird. And I'm not sure if I should say something to her or just... I don't know, pretend it's not happening.

We still haven't really talked about that strange, out-of-the-blue apology either.

Hopefully something happens soon. This awkward vibe is driving me crazy.

* * *

_**December 23rd, 2011**_

Well, something definitely happened.

My Dad and Maribel had some Christmas work dinner last night so they were staying at a hotel.

It was a Friday so I half expected Santana to be going out with another one of her hook-ups.

But nope. Nothing.

Dad left us money to get pizza for dinner. Then, I watched _The Lion King_ in the family room while Santana went upstairs to listen to her iPod and paint her nails. When it got later, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. Just the usual routine. I changed into a comfy blue tank top and my favorite cotton boxers (with rainbows and smiley suns). I brushed my teeth. I washed my face. I pulled out the loose pony and combed my hair. And then I strolled into our room to hop in bed.

When I got to the doorway, I stopped dead in my tracks.

Santana was already in my bed.

My heart starting beating all fast and hard and I had no idea why.

I didn't want to think it, but I couldn't help it. She looked really, really hot.

The covers were only drawn up to her knees. She was wearing some satiny, pale pink slip that I'd never seen before and her dark hair was falling in messy, sexy curls over the smooth caramel skin of her shoulders.

I coughed awkwardly and turned off the light as if nothing abnormal was happening.

"I hope you don't mind." She whispered. "My bed has really been giving me the creeps ever since the _great spider-attack of last week_." She laughed dryly.

The sound of it made me shiver for some reason.

I didn't respond. I just closed the door behind me and moved around to the other side of the bed, sliding under the sheets and instantly facing away from her on my side.

"I think I need to buy a new one..." She rambled. "That whole incident majorly put me off."

I nodded. "Sure."

I heard her sigh and shift behind me. "Brittany?"

"Mhmm?"

She took a breath in like she was going to say something but there was a long pause and nothing came out.

Eventually, I felt her settle back into the mattress heavily. "Nothing."

Again, the silence seemed to drag out for ages. The air was prickly. I was on edge and I just couldn't understand why.

Then, a shuffle.

The bed dipped and my eyes snapped opened when Santana's bare feet touched mine tentatively.

She didn't speak. But she kept moving.

A hand crept its way up my lower back, grazed the skin on my forearm and came to rest over my stomach.

I couldn't control the shudder that passed through me... or the way my heart started pounding in my ears.

I felt the front of her body nestle into my back and my chest did this warm leapy thing. Her fingers found my palm and began drawing lazy circles on it. I flinched but didn't move away. I could feel the sweat collecting on the ends of my fingertips.

Why was she doing this? I thought she hated me?

And since when did we become snuggle-buddies?

The next part was what shocked me the most though.

Hot, soft lips started pressing into the back of my neck.

There was certainly no mistaking what was going on now.

Santana was hitting on me.

Santana, my so-called _step-sister,_ was in my bed, cuddled up to me, spooning me, and kissing the back of my neck.

Fuck.

"Uh... Santana?" I managed to get out, however shakily it was. I knew I was breathing heavy. I felt something surge inside of me every time her lips met my skin.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked quietly. Her movements ceased and I heard how nervous she was in the way she spoke.

I worried my lip between my teeth and hesitated for a long moment. My entire body was pulsing, thrumming and begging for something that I had never felt before. I wanted her. I could barely believe that I was even thinking it... But I did.

I wanted Santana.

I couldn't form words so I just shook my head ever so slightly.

Apparently she understood that though because the next thing I knew, her hand had nudged beneath my arm that was resting across my stomach and it was sliding under my tank top.

I gasped and arched into her touch instinctively.

"Fuck Britt... Tell me to stop." It was both a desperate plea and a challenge. Her breath was uneven and damp against the back of my neck and I shuddered at the feeling.

Nails scratched teasingly along my stomach and her hips pressed into me from behind.

I heard a broken whimper rip from my throat. My cheeks flushed hard at the noise I wasn't even aware I was capable of making.

This was wrong. This was so wrong on so many levels.

We hated each other.

We were always fighting. There was even one time where it came to blows.

We lived in the same house and shared the same damn bedroom.

Our parents were married.

We were supposed to be _step-sisters _for God's sake.

And yet, there we were, moving together, practically writhing on my bed, pressed into each other as closely as possible, Santana's lips sucking at the side of my neck while I groaned and shivered and reached around to grip at the defined hip that was rocking into my ass.

I wasn't quite sure who had taken over my brain but it definitely wasn't me.

Hot, sticky arousal was pooling quickly between my legs and I ached. I had never been so turned on before and she was barely even doing anything.

Santana's hands skirted up to tickle at the underside of my breast and I brought my hand around over hers to guide her motions. My nipples were hard and tight. They were practically pleading for her touch. And when I finally felt her warm palm make contact and cradle my breast, I almost screamed with relief. It was heaven.

My brain flooded with liquid, paralysing heat as she squeezed softly and took my earlobe between her teeth. Everything was on fire.

I slung my leg backwards over her hips; my body was squirming around and pushing back into her roughly of its own accord.

"Tell me to stop." She repeated through panting breaths and licked at the shell of my ear.

I shook my head again, more insistently this time, and groaned as she pinched at my nipple and rolled it between her fingers teasingly.

"I knew you wanted me." I felt her smile against the tender skin underneath my jaw as she gloated.

I hated that she could read me. I hated that she could sense what I craved, even before I had fully realized it myself.

But she was right.

Dozens of memories from the past few months shuttered like an old movie through my mind. Glimpses of her perfect ass hugged by tight jeans, the enticing dip of her cleavage as she leaned over to pick up some clothes from the floor, the confusing tingle I felt when I watched her with other girls on the sidewalk in front of our house, dark, haunting eyes that followed my every move... and those thick, soft lips, her tongue darting out to wet them as she read a book or filed her nails. I'd wanted her the whole time. And we'd both been playing this game far longer than I realized.

"Say it Britt. Tell me how hot you are for me."

I growled in response and turned to face her, effectively removing her hands from my body. Even now, she was pushing my limits. My blood boiled with rage and lust.

"Fuck you." I swore uncharacteristically and lunged at her mouth, drawing her in for a fiery, forceful kiss.

She moaned and clawed at my back as I sucked on her lip and thrust my tongue into her mouth.

One of her hands found its way into my boxers and I thought I might die right there and then. Nobody had ever touched me before... and it probably should have made me feel vulnerable and exposed... I probably should have felt embarrassed that she could feel how wet I was for her... but I was way too far gone, lost in the moment and a slave to desire. I shivered uncontrollably.

Without thinking, I manoeuvred my hand between our bodies and up underneath her slip as well. She wasn't wearing anything underneath. My eyes rolled back into my head at the thought.

Her hips jutted forward when I mimicked her actions and then the air grew ten times hotter and thicker... if that was even possible. She felt incredible. So hot and soft and slippery. It was like paradise.

Sure, I'd messed around and touched myself a few times in the past, just for the sake of curiosity. But this was completely different. She found my clit easily and started making the most amazing, tight circles, putting just the right amount of pressure. I moaned and buried my face in her sweat dampened neck, trying frantically to follow her lead.

She smelled like honey and fresh green tea leaves.

We bucked together, pressing at each other's centres and knowing the whole time that what we were doing was incredibly wrong. But that somehow only made it more exciting.

When her fingers stopped their persistent movements against my clit and dipped lower, I chased her blindly, sensing in the back of my mind what was about to happen but not really believing it either.

Santana was taking my virginity. And I couldn't bring myself to feel bad about it.

With a slow, synchronized push, she was inside of me and I was buried in her. Her thigh had come up to grip at my waist and we ground into each other with fluid, drawn out motions, completely in tune and yet somehow managing to surprise each other, all at the same time.

The world around us stopped and all I could hear was her whimpers and muffled moans mixing in with the sounds of abandon coming from my own mouth. It was almost like an out of body experience. Each time she nipped at my ear and brushed at my clit with her thumb, I jolted and raced after it with my own fingers, needing to make her feel the same way.

It wasn't long before everything became frantic and rushed. Our thrusts grew more forceful and quick inside tight, clenching centers, and our mouths met again for a breathless kiss... and when she panted my name, I tumbled into weightlessness.

I felt my body release wave after wave of throbbing, tingling pleasure. My muscles contracted and engulfed her fingers inside of me. And better still, I felt her do the same, shuddering and surging all around me.

The moment lasted for a long time, a rumbling earthquake speckled with wonderful aftershocks, but when we finally relaxed back into ourselves, I knew reality had just caught up to me again.

Dread. Fear. Regret. It all rushed through my chest like a waterfall.

I was lying next to Santana, breathing hard, feeling her inside me and my own fingers hidden deep within her most intimate place.

What the hell did we just do?

* * *

**A/N: There WILL be a second part. Don't worry lol. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Did I say this was a two-shot? Sorry. I meant THREE-shot. Yeah. I tried to reign it in but... I couldn't = P **_**  
**_

* * *

_**December 23rd, 2011 **_

The day after was... uncomfortable.

After Santana and I had sex, we just detached from each other's bodies and went to sleep. Neither of us said anything.

And when I woke up in the morning, she was gone. Not just out of bed gone, like _really_ gone. She wasn't even in the house.

I didn't know what to do with myself. So I went for a run on the treadmill, took a long bath, did some overdue laundry and sorted the DVD's in the bookshelf into alphabetical order... then by genre... then by year... then by how much I liked them. Eventually I gave up trying to distract myself, put _Beauty and the Beast _on quietly in the background, and slumped on the couch to have a nap.

Of course, trying to sleep when my mind was buzzing with thought was pointless.

Santana and I slept together.

My step-sister, Santana, took my virginity last night.

It was mind-boggling and I wondered for a while if it had all been a dream.

But no. It was definitely real. I remembered exactly how it felt to have her body up against mine, her lips on my skin and her fingers inside of me. I remembered every tiny detail, down to the way her hair tickled my face and her ankle dug into my back when she came.

It was like there were so many things to feel confused about that I wasn't even sure where to start. For a while, I felt a little like crying because I'd given away such an intimate part of myself and it all happened so fast I barely even got the chance to think about it.

But really, it could have gone worse. I know that a lot of people have terrible first times. And that was definitely not terrible… not even close.

At the same time, I kind of got the urge to call up one of my friends just to boast about the fact that I was no longer holding the dreaded V-card... and to be honest, flaunt about the whole experience being freakin' amazing and insanely hot.

Of course I couldn't, and more importantly, I _wouldn't_ ever do that. It was just a random thought. I wasn't the sort of girl who was all superficial and tried to show off like that. Actually, I wasn't even sure if having sex was really something to be proud of... or if everyone was just running around saying they did it to seem cool.

Also, it's not like I could ever tell anyone that it was Santana I'd been with. I'm pretty sure people would think I was insane and weird and gross and try to burn me at the stake for even _thinking _about my step-sister that way.

But that train of thought raised a whole other issue that I definitely didn't want to get into just yet.

The flurry of emotions was already making me queasy.

And when I was teetering on the verge of outright panic, torn between feeling empty, scared and oddly proud of what happened, Santana decided to come home.

"Hey." She called out nonchalantly as she sauntered through the door.

I sat bolt upright on the couch and stared at her. "Where did you go?"

She didn't even bother to stop and look at me as she made her way past the kitchen and up the stairs. "Out."

I scrambled from my seat and followed her. "Wait. I think we should talk about what happened last night."

She swung open our bedroom door and took a seat on her bed. "Don't wanna talk."

Gaping at her, I wasn't sure whether to yell or breathe a small sigh of relief that she wasn't calling me crazy and denying that anything had happened at all. "What?"

For the first time since she'd arrived home, her dark eyes met mine. "I said, not now Britt. Okay?" Her tone was warning and harsh.

I glared, my teeth clenching slightly in anger. "Why not?"

"Will you just fucking drop it? I am _not_ in the mood right now." Santana rolled her eyes, exasperated.

I knew I had two options at that point. One, get into a ridiculous fight about her being a stubborn, cold, heartless bitch and end up with no answers as to why she found her way into my bed last night and what that meant for us. Two, let it go for now and confront her later when things had cooled down a bit... and still get no answers but at least avoid a heated confrontation.

I sighed and bit my tongue. "Fine. Whatever." I stormed out of the room and went back downstairs.

Dad and Maribel got home not long after that and I just acted like nothing was wrong. I'm pretty sure they bought it.

They can never find out what we did.

I'm not exactly sure what the punishment is for getting it on with your step-sister. But I can't handle trying to figure that out right now.

If Santana wants to be difficult, I'm totally going to sleep on the couch tonight. And maybe tomorrow night too. I don't even care that it's Christmas. Santa can deal. He's magic after all... so he can just figure it out.

* * *

_**December 24th, 2011 **_

After an uncomfortable night on the lumpy, scratchy couch left me with hardly any sleep but plenty of time to think, I realized I had to calm down. I knew I wouldn't get anywhere with Santana if I was going to act just as stubborn and avoid-y as she was. I needed to keep trying or things were only going to get worse.

And even though I said I didn't yesterday, I really do care that it's Christmas.

Nobody should be fighting at Christmas time.

Luckily, Dad and Maribel wanted to spend the holidays with just the four of us. _'Family bonding'_ or whatever since it was the first time we'd be sharing the occasion together and in the same house. So tonight, after the food had been eaten and the lame Christmas movies had been watched, I went to join Santana in our bedroom.

She was sitting on her bed, as usual, iPod headphones tucked into her ears.

"Hey." I said quietly, shutting the door behind me.

She raised an eyebrow and removed one bud to hear what I was saying.

"Do you mind if I hang out in here?"

"No. It's your room too." Her voice sounded small. Not at all like the snapping defensiveness from the day before.

I nodded and lay down on my own bed, flicking on the TV we had set up in the corner. Whatever made her have a change of heart, I was thankful. It was at least a small step in the right direction.

After about fifteen minutes of mindless channel surfing, I caught movement out the corner of my eye.

Santana was slithering her way onto my bed and crawling up next to me.

I was so shocked that I couldn't even move.

"What are you doing?" I asked nervously when she swung a leg over my hip and straddled me.

"Sorry if I was... _harsh_ yesterday." She purred, leaning down close to my face. "I think I was PMS-ing pretty bad."

My heart was beating fast again and I could practically taste her sweet breath on my lips. There was something about the way she spoke that was almost too nice... too apologetic.

It gave me the unsettling feeling that this was all just a big game to her. The fighting, the teasing... maybe even the sex.

"Santana, no. You need to get off of me."

"Why _baby_?" She ran a delicate finger down the side of my neck and smirked. "I know that you liked what we did the other night just as much as I did."

Despite myself, I shuddered. There was something so wrong about her calling me _baby_ and yet I knew I had enjoyed it all the same. "This isn't right."

"Because our parents are right down the hall and could walk in at any moment?" She lowered her head and nipped at my earlobe.

My hands instinctively reached for her hips and squeezed lightly. "Yes... And we're supposed to be _sisters... _and that's totally not normal."

"Who says?"

"Duh... everyone."

"Fuck 'em." She laughed breathily, dropping a few kisses along my jaw.

If our parents being married weren't enough reason for me to feel like I should stop her, there was also the fact that it was entirely possible that Santana was just messing with me for some cheap thrill. I wouldn't put it passed her to make me her 'newest conquest'. And it's not like she'd given me any reason to think otherwise.

But try telling that to my raging teenage sex drive.

The feel of Santana on top of me and beneath my fingers was just so damn tempting and with each teasing touch and press of her hips, I felt my resolve crumbling.

I mean, come on. Can you blame me? There was an extremely hot girl sitting on top of me, offering to give me orgasms right after I'd gotten a taste of how amazingly awesome sex could be... I'd have to have the self-discipline of one of those super religious, Karate-chopping monks not to give in.

My brain warned me to shove her off, to demand she explain why she was doing this.

But my body wriggled impatiently and asked _does it even matter?_

When her hand snuck underneath my t-shirt and starting groping at my breast, I knew it was a lost cause.

I groaned and dug my head back into the pillow. I could worry about Santana's motives _after_ we finished getting all up in each other's business.

"That's my girl." She smirked above me.

Was it even possible to feel this annoyed and this attracted to someone at the same time?

I pawed at her hips when her mouth returned to my neck. I knew her insistent sucking would leave some very obvious marks… Marks that I would have to explain away if either of our parents saw.

But I didn't protest. Tugging at the bottom of her shirt, I waited for her to get the hint and allow me to lift it over her head. When she was hovering above me, breasts bared and heaving as she swallowed deep breaths, I took my chance. I leaned up and wrapped my arms around her, lowering my lips to her dark pink nipple.

It was her turn to whimper and knot her hands in my hair.

Even if I was pretty new to it all, I could tell from her reactions that I was at least doing something right. I smirked against her skin and tugged carefully at the taut bud with my teeth.

I heard my name in her heavy gasp and I practically melted.

But I tried not to let her see that. Not when I was just getting the upper hand in our little battle for dominance and bragging rights.

With my tongue still swirling around her nipple, I slid one of my hands down her spine, tickling over each ridge gently along the way, until I got to her pajama bottoms. My fingertips played at the elastic for a few moments before dragging them down, along with her underwear, just enough so that I could grope at her ass.

I wasn't exactly intending to take her pants off. My brain hadn't gotten that far yet. But apparently that was how she took it.

Pulling away from our tight embrace, she discarded the rest of her clothes and set about hastily removing my own.

I was frozen in shock as she stripped me down, the light in our bedroom suddenly becoming far too bright and unforgiving.

Santana could see everything this time, all of me, and a hot blush spread across my cheeks, up to the tips of my ears and all the way down my neck.

Once she had thrown the last of my clothing haphazardly to the floor behind her, she sat kneeling between my slightly spread legs and grinned seductively at me.

"So… how do you want me this time?" She teased, dropping forward onto her hands gracefully and crawling over me.

I couldn't reply. My heart was hammering against my ribcage. My eyes weren't sure what to focus on… the wicked glint in her eyes, the subtle shine of her lips, the weighty curve of her breasts… No.

I unconsciously looked down her body, gaze tracing the incredibly sexy v-cut of her stomach and hips, shivering when I watched her thigh glide up between both of my own and her centre make contact with my skin. Wet heat quickly coated my upper leg and my fingertips shot up to grasp at her sides.

This was so much more intimate than the last time. I could feel every inch of her on me. I could _see_ everything that she was doing. The way our bodies molded and fit together… it sent my head into a spin.

Her warm breath was at my ear again. "You're so fucking hot, Britt. I want you so much right now." She punctuated it with a firm grind of her hips and a hand skirting up my stomach to pinch at my nipple.

I groaned, digging my nails into her shoulder blade and biting down on her collarbone.

I could feel my own heat soaking her thigh. It was perfectly angled into me, with the right amount pressure… and every time she surged forward, I unravelled just a tiny bit more.

It might have been winter but the air around us was anything but cold as we exchanged thrusts of our lower bodies and our lips met for rushed kisses with desperate, battling tongue.

When our movements became more wild and jerky, and I felt myself inching closer to the edge, I half-wondered if Santana might snake a hand between our bodies so that she could touch me again.

I knew I shouldn't have wanted that. But I really, really did.

Instead, she broke our blistering kiss and shifted down my body.

Before I even realized what was happening, her mouth was on me, licking at my center, skimming lightly over my clit.

"Fuck!" I cried out before I control myself.

So much for not being prone to swearing.

I just couldn't stop it though. Santana's tongue felt amazing. Better than anything I could have ever imagined. My hands instantly tangled in her dark hair and pulled her face closer. Goosebumps rose all over my body as her arms wrapped around my thighs and she held my hips down to the bed.

Her tongue danced deft circles and patterns across my clit and with every change in pressure and speed, I felt myself on the verge of something so much bigger than I could even begin to describe.

I already thought Santana's fingers were magic... but they were certainly no match for her tongue.

I whimpered and moaned and clawed at the sheets with my toes, the muscles in my body tense and rippling with anticipation. Every now and then she would dip her tongue down and slide it inside of me, just to make me thrash even more.

I risked a glance down at her and if the sight of her head between my legs wasn't enough to send me crashing into ecstasy, her hips grinding into her own hand certainly did the trick.

Then, like she could sense that I was already falling, she swiftly replaced her tongue with her fingers, thrusting quick and hard while she licked roughly at my clit.

The earthquake from the first time felt like a tiny tremor compared to this. I soared and looped, clenching around her fingers and letting out a deep groan from my throat that made me blush even as my brain turned to goo. My hips lifted high off the bed and bucked uncontrollably into her face.

I wanted to feel embarrassed by my reaction.

But she didn't even give me the chance.

Right when I thought the tidal waves were through, she pulled out and pushed back into me sharply and unexpectedly, flicking her tongue over my clit.

Just like that I was coming apart again.

And this time, she joined me. Through the haze of my own pleasure, I felt more than heard the vibrations of her eager moan against my core.

The thought of her getting off to watching me come just made everything that much better.

By the time I was finally finished shaking, I realized that she had moved out from between my legs, turned off the light and was now climbing under the covers next to me.

The thin layer of sweat on her skin glimmered in the faint moonlight streaming through our window. I had no idea what to say or do and I was terrified of making the wrong move. So I just lay there.

When our breathing had quietened completely and I was about ready to give up trying to sort things out in my head and go to sleep, my heart skipped a beat when she reached over and linked our pinkies together.

A tiny smile crept onto my lips.

It may not have been much, but it was definitely something. And it comforted me enough to fall into a grateful, satiated sleep.

* * *

_**December 25**__**th**__**, 2011**_

This morning, I woke up naked in Santana's arms.

Our legs were twined together and her lips were pressed into my shoulder. We must have shifted closer during the night.

I don't know why she didn't sneak out and leave like the time before. But I'm also not sure what was worse – the panic of cold sheets and an empty space beside me, or the utter confusion that set in after my heart leapt at the sight of our bodies tangled up so perfectly.

I squirmed under her weight, both afraid of what her staying meant and what I felt after waking up next to her, the memories of last night still so fresh and lapping at my brain.

Then, an even worse thought. The door wasn't locked. Either of our parents could have walked in and seen us sleeping naked with each other.

That was enough to make my stomach clench and force my limbs to begin shifting carelessly away from Santana to get dressed.

Her eyes fluttered open as I climbed out of bed and her stare followed me across the room as I grabbed a t-shirt and a new set of underwear from my drawers. For a split second, I thought I saw something on her face that looked like happiness. She gave a tiny smile, gaze soft and admiring.

But then, she caught herself, coughed uncomfortably, and it was gone, expression back to its practiced stoic guard.

"Why are you up so early?" The question was completely lacking emotion. She yawned and pulled the covers up high on her neck.

I hesitated for a moment. "Umm… it's Christmas. I want to see what Santa brought me." I called over my shoulder as I dressed.

"Is that so?" She arched an eyebrow at me. It was questioning but not really mocking. That surprised me. I expected some kind of smartass remark.

"Yeah." I answered, tugging on a pair of sweatpants to finish covering myself.

When I turned back towards her, she was smiling again. Not hard and cocky like when we were fighting. Not even predatory like when she was trying to convince me to have sex with her again.

Just a smile.

It was confusing as hell.

"So I'll… uh… I'll see you down there." I said quietly, making a bee-line for the door and closing it behind me on my way out.

What was this girl doing to me? I mean, even last night, I could have sworn that she was just taunting me, using me. But now… I don't know. How can one look and one smile say so much? And then there was that little pinky link. What was _that _all about_?_

I just… I know I'm not imagining things. I know that there's something going with her that's not just trying to get into my pants and mess with my sanity.

There has to be.

When I got downstairs, Maribel and Dad were already making breakfast in the kitchen. They both gave me a kiss and a hug and said _Merry Christmas._ I returned it with a smile, grabbed myself a glass of juice and skipped out to the living room.

I figured if I let my excitement over getting presents win out over all that other _stuff_, I might be okay.

Santa brought me some really cool stuff – a limited edition DVD box set of all the _Toy Story_ movies, a pair of pink and purple_ Nike_ high-tops and a HUGE jar of jellybeans, all watermelon flavored. My favorite.

Dad and Maribel also got me an awesome pair of headphones that were made specifically for dancers and athletes. Something about being _shock resistant, lightweight_ and _form fitting _so that when I do flips and stuff, they won't fall off. Not sure what all that means, but I thought they were pretty damn sweet either way. And they surprised me with that super cute Unicorn plushie I saw once at the store but felt kinda silly buying for myself.

It got semi-awkward when Santana eventually came downstairs to join us and I gave her the present I bought her.

I don't think she was expecting me to get her anything. Her eyebrows scrunched up and she just blinked at me a few times before accepting it.

Even if things were weird between us when I bought it (even more so now), I knew it was the right thing to do if we were going to be family. Since I didn't have much money because cheerleading and dance took up most of my spare time and didn't allow for a part-time job, I just got her this dumb set of passionfruit bath bombs and scented soaps.

I had no idea if she'd like it or not. But with a limited budget and not a whole heap of insight on what sorta stuff she was into, it was the best gift I could think of.

She gave a brief smile when she unwrapped it and muttered a quiet _thank you_, before reaching beneath the tree and handing me a small package too.

Through my own shock, I could feel both Dad and Maribel's eyes on me. They were clearly over the moon to see us behaving like normal, civilized people for once. But thankfully, after a moment of tense silence, the oven-timer in the kitchen beeped and they both went off to investigate, giving us some time alone.

I was insanely grateful for their tact.

"Merry Christmas Britt." Santana said, shuffling her feet on the carpet. I wasn't quite sure if that was her being nervous or trying to act like the whole exchange was boring her and she didn't care.

But then she leant up and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before spinning on her heel and leaving the room.

I was super confused. I was blushing. And I couldn't believe that she had known to get me a pair of the warmest, snuggliest socks ever, covered in little yellow ducks.

I had no idea she was paying that much attention to the kind of things I wore and liked.

And with that flicker of hope, I found myself wanting to see Santana in a whole new way.

* * *

_**December 29th, 2011**_

This winter break has been the weirdest, most baffling, most exciting, most terrifying time of my life.

Santana and I have been hanging out more the last few days. We mostly watch TV together and share distracted conversation while we're both on our laptops. And sometimes, she links my pinky with hers and grins like we both know the most wonderful secret in the world.

Times like that, I am crazy happy. And everything just feels so… right.

I don't think I can pinpoint exactly how we went from bitching and hating on each other to this calm truce we have now... It was pretty gradual. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're not BFFS or anything… and it can still get hell awkward sometimes. Actually, pretty much just after we get carried away and have sex.

Like yesterday, when Santana snuck into the shower with me and I nearly blew our cover when I screamed in surprise like a seven-year old girl.

Maribel even knocked on the door to ask me if I was okay and I had to pretend like everything was fine, even though Santana's warm, slippery body was grinding against me and she was nibbling on my earlobe.

Or the day before when Dad and Maribel went to the store and we were sitting next to each other on the couch downstairs with a huge blanket draped over us. We were kinda far apart at first, but then Santana scooted over and started teasing me through my sweatpants until I eventually gave in and we ended up finishing just before the front door swung open.

Thankfully we didn't get undressed before we got it on that time…

Anyway, when stuff like that happens, things can get pretty uncomfortable.

Because I always fight her in the beginning. And I always fight myself. I say that we shouldn't, that it's wrong, that someone could catch us. I tell myself that Santana's not really into me like that and it's all just fun and games to her.

But then I can't hold back.

We're like two magnets. No matter how hard I try, I keep getting pulled to her by this strange, electric force. It's practically in my bones. I feel helpless to stop it.

Then afterwards, when we're both panting and weak, the silence is deafening. I'm too scared to ask her all the questions that are bubbling in my brain. And at the same time, I'm even more worried that if I let things keep going the way they are, it'll only end up being worse and I'm going to get really hurt…

Because honestly… I think I'm sorta, maybe, kinda, just a tiny bit falling for her. I know it's ridiculous. I know I said that I hated her before. But… the way she's been making me feel lately, tingly and ache-y in the best way imaginable, it must be something more than just sex. She doesn't seem like such an annoying, spoiled brat anymore. She's softer.

She gave me a Christmas present. She makes really funny jokes when we're hanging out. And the way she looks at me sometimes and says my name makes me feel like… Ugh. I don't know.

I could be dreaming. I could be freakin' delirious. I have no clue. But I need to find out how she feels.

I need to.

And it's these thoughts that made me push her away when she locked our bedroom door this afternoon and slithered on top of me with a deliberate smirk.

"Santana, stop. We need to talk."

"Talk about what?" She replied distractedly, kissing at the spot beneath my ear and making me shudder despite my resolve.

I grabbed her shoulders and made her look me in the eye. "About_ this.._. About _us_."

Her eyes instantly hardened and she shrugged out of my touch, moving to sit back on the bed. "There is no _us._"

My eyebrows furrowed together. "What are you talking about? We've been… _you know_…" I stared at her meaningfully and gestured back and forth between us, hoping she'd get the picture.

"It's just sex. Sex doesn't mean anything." She looked away and I could tell straight away that she was lying.

"Yes it does. You know it does... And this isn't _just sex_ either. Something else is going on here. I'm not stupid." I insisted.

"Seriously B?" She raised a challenging eyebrow at me and I cringed slightly at the return of the nickname she used once upon a time to get on my nerves. "What did you think was gonna happen? We were gonna get married and have lady babies? We're _step-sisters_ for fuck's sake." She folded her arms across her chest defiantly.

I rolled my eyes at her. "I know that. In case you forgot, _I'm _the one that keeps reminding you of that."

"Yeah well, it doesn't change anything." She shrugged. "I needed to get my mack on and… you were there. Win-win."

Something lurched inside of me and I felt sick. It was all of my worst fears confirmed. "So that's all I am to you? Just a body to keep you warm at night? Just some joke?"

She didn't respond. She just kept her eyes away from mine and tightened her jaw.

I felt myself choking up quickly, already on the brink of tears.

"Fuck you, Santana. How dare you… you… _use _me like that?" I furiously swiped at a stray tear that had managed to fall down my cheek. "Did you know I was a virgin the first time we had sex? Huh?"

Her eyes darted back up to mine and her mouth dropped open. "Brittany I… I had no idea… I-"

"No. You know what? Save it. That's not the point... And to be honest, I don't even really care." It was true. I'm not actually that phased that Santana was my first. It's not that big of a deal. I just wanted her to know… and _maybe_ I wanted to throw it in her face to make her feel a little bit guilty too.

Hey, I'm not perfect.

"I care though! Brittany, I _never_ would have done that if I knew." She shuffled over and took my face in her hands. "I'm so sorry. It was totally wrong of me."

"Whatever." I sniffled, refusing to make eye-contact with her and hating myself for being so pathetic.

"Britt... look at me." She begged softly. "Please?"

I sighed in frustration but complied anyway.

Her eyes were much softer than they had been a few moments ago. She took a deep breath and gave me a hesitant smile. "You're right. It's not just sex."

I could only blink and swallow thickly as I waited for her to continue.

"I guess you noticed that I haven't been sneaking out with random girls anymore?"

I nodded feebly. I had noticed. But I just thought maybe all her lady friends were busy because it was Christmas time…

"I…" She let out a shaky breath and squeezed her eyes together for a second. "I can't explain it… All that stuff - partying, hanging out with those girls, doing shit that could get me into serious trouble just to impress them… it used to be the perfect distraction… it used to make me feel like a top bitch. Like I was awesome and everybody else sucked." She laughed bitterly. "But I'm not… And the only one brave enough to stand up to me and say that was you."

I scrunched my nose up. "What do you mean?"

She released my face and looked down nervously. "I don't know exactly what's going on here… It's scary and big and… I've known that something was up for a lot longer than I wanna admit." She paused and fiddled with her hands a bit before she went on. "And no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I fight against it and convince myself that I'm not supposed to have these _feelings_ because our parents are married… there's just something about you. You challenge me… And sometimes you drive me pretty crazy." She glanced up at me with a hint of laughter in her eyes.

I chewed on my bottom lip while her words settled over us.

I wasn't exactly sure what she was trying to tell me.

"But if you like me so much, and you have for a long time, then why were you acting like such a bitch?"

"Apart from not wanting my Mom to get re-married and having to move in with people I barely knew?" Santana ran a hand through her hair and sighed. "I guess I resented the situation… I didn't want to feel attracted to you. I didn't want to think about you that way. I knew it was wrong."

"Did you… _always_ feel like that?"

She shook her head. "No. Not at first… In the beginning, I really just didn't like you. I thought you were kinda weird." She smirked playfully at me and I couldn't help but grin back. "And I was really angry at my Mom for forcing me into this."

I frowned, understanding the feeling.

"But then, after a few months… I don't know." Her face twisted in thought. "I just couldn't stop staring at you… and thinking about you… and then I started picking fights with you just so you would talk to me."

"I thought you hated me." I pouted.

"No. I just… I didn't want you to figure out how I felt about you." Santana shuffled forward and took my hand. "Everything about you… it captivates me, Britt. I'm not going to pretend I understand it… And I probably sound crazy trying to explain it now. It just… _is_."

We sat there for a long time, not saying anything, and I did my best to take in her heartfelt admission, trying to get all the new information to fit in with the old memories of our time together. It was hard to believe that Santana was suddenly being so open and honest with me. I guess finding out that she took my virginity without even realizing it really got her attention.

"By the way… I'm sorry I ran off the morning after the first time we…" She trailed off. "I was just scared."

I nodded in acknowledgement. "I know."

"And I never would have gotten into your bed that night if I knew you were a virgin, Britt. I swear." She said earnestly. "But I still don't regret what happened between us… I did what I did because… You're sorta irresistible to me." She winked and I giggled quietly. "I just can't seem to control myself around you no matter how hard I try… I like you… a lot. And I never should have made you feel so horrible just because I was afraid of how I felt and didn't want you to think I was a freak for feeling it." She shook her head at herself and laughed dryly. "Fuck, when did I become such a fucking sap?"

I smiled gently. "You're not a freak. And I like super sweet, sappy Santana. Even if I am kinda getting a toothache now."

She laughed and brushed away some hair that had fallen in front of my face. "So… now that you know… what do you, uh… what do you think?"

It was strange seeing Santana look so small and hopeful. And I couldn't deny that I found the vulnerability incredibly endearing.

But all of that warm and fuzzy was still a giant shock to my system after I'd spent so long being suspicious of her.

Even if I had been getting small glimpses of Santana's softer side lately, she'd done a great job of cementing herself in my mind as callous, conniving and selfish during our first few months together. And it was going to be hard to completely break the mould that was cast by that initial impression.

And there was no question that her motives in all this were still pretty manipulative, even if they weren't for the reasons that I had originally guessed.

So her confession didn't exactly make up for everything… But at least she'd been remorseful and sincere.

I knew I had to allow myself some time to let everything sink in. To get used to the idea of Santana actually _liking _me and not just toying with me for fun. To work out how _I _really felt about her and what that would mean for us in the long run.

"Can I think about it?" I asked her unsurely.

She looked hurt, so I went on.

"It's like I can only see half the puzzle… and I need a chance to figure out where the rest of the pieces go."

Santana swallowed and nodded her head slowly. "Yeah. Okay. I get that."

"Cool." I gave her a gentle peck on the cheek and went outside to gather my thoughts.

* * *

_**December 31st, 2011**_

It's been two days since Santana spilled the beans about what was really going on inside her head and I'm not sure if it's better or worse now.

Things are still pretty awkward... but for an entirely different reason.

She's waiting for my answer. She wants to know if I feel the same way that she does. If I like her as more than a semi-friend, impartial roommate and sometimes orgasm-buddy.

And even though I've been thinking about it really hard, I'm just not sure what I'm going to say.

I've always thought that she's absolutely, stunning-ly beautiful. And now, after we've spent some time together that all wasn't yelling and complaining, I can also see how funny and smart and interesting she is.

What's more, when I look back on our arguments and remember how angry she could get me, I don't feel the frustration that was once there.

I only remember the fire in her eyes. The passion. It gives me this strange, exciting tingle in my chest. Nobody's ever made me snap like that before. Nobody's ever made me feel that much heat.

Is it wrong if I find her bad temper kinda sexy?

But then, when I think that yeah, maybe I _do _want Santana and I _have_ really fallen for her and we _could_ actually build something special, I have to remind myself that our situation is totally screwed up.

How could we ever be together? Our parents would freak. My friends would freak. The entire town would freak.

It would be a nightmare.

And when she stared at me with that same questioning gaze while I got ready for the New Year's Eve party I was supposed to be heading to tonight, I sighed and spun around to inform her of just that.

"Santana... I know you want me to say that I like you too... But I really just don't know what to tell you."

Her brow creased and she looked down at her hands. "Is that a no?"

I bit my lip and shook my head. "No... It's a '_we can't even if I wanted to.'_"

"So you don't want to?"

"I don't know!" I huffed. "Maybe? I'm confused."

"B, if you like me, who cares what people think?"

I gaped at her. "You're joking right? You really want to go and tell our parents and family and friends that we're sleeping together and want to be a couple? You could handle that?"

Santana gave a defeated shrug and breathed out heavily. "What else are we supposed to do?"

I knew she had a point. If we both had more-than-sisterly feelings for each other, we couldn't just go back to the way things were before.

And, even if I was seriously mixed up and conflicted, I knew it would be a lie if I said I planned to discontinue our secret little rendezvous. The way Santana made me feel was just far too amazing... and I definitely didn't have that much restraint.

"I'm not sure." I offered quietly.

I moved from my spot in front of the mirror to sit down beside her on the bed.

"I can't just pretend that I don't wanna be with you. I've never felt this way about anyone before." She whispered.

I glanced over at her, half-hiding behind my hair. "Really?"

She grinned in amusement. "Yes really."

"What do you feel?"

She scooted over and slipped her hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. "You're like no-one I've ever met, Brittany. You're sexy and cute and sweet and everything that's good in this crazy, messed up world."

"But we still get on each other's nerves sometimes."

"So? Who doesn't?" She smiled knowingly. "Besides... I like that you don't take my crap."

"Me too." I squeezed her hand in mine. "You can be giant pain in the butt."

Santana laughed lightly. "That's why I need you around to put me in my place."

I nodded excitedly. But then another question popped into my mind and I needed to be sure. "You really don't think I'm just a stupid cheerleader?"

She shook her head adamantly. "Definitely not."

"Good." I smiled. "Because I don't think you're a slutty bitchface anymore either."

"I'm glad." She chuckled and pulled me in for a tight hug. We stayed like that for a long moment. Eventually though, I felt her whisper against my neck. "Do you need a lift to your party? I can drive you if you like."

My smile got even bigger as I pressed my face into her hair. She smelled so good. And being in her arms was making me feel all kinds of safe and happy. I might not have had any idea where this situation was headed in the future but I knew in that moment I couldn't think of anything worse than being apart from her right now. "Nah... I don't feel like going out so much anymore."

If I could have seen her face, I was sure her eyebrow would have jumped up in question. "Oh yeah? What do you wanna do instead?"

I finally withdrew from the warmth of her hug and leant over to place a light kiss on her lips. "Well if you think I'm sooo awesome, I'm sure you won't have any problems whatsoever if I asked you to snuggle and watch _Alice in Wonderland_ with me..."

Santana groaned a bit. "The Disney one or the remake with Johnny Depp?"

I made a face. "Duh. The Disney one silly."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Don't you wanna do something more exciting? It is New Years Eve after all."

I just grinned and pushed at her shoulders so that she was lying flat on her back before climbing on top of her.

"Nope. I'm pretty sure this is exactly where I want to be." **  
**

* * *

**Can I just say, I am absolutely astounded at how many people reviewed/alerted/favorited the last chapter. Seriously, mind BLOWN. I had no idea this subject would be so popular! **

**Thank you guys so much! I'm really glad you're all liking this little trip to taboo town. Look out for Part 3 soon! **


	3. Chapter 3

**RE-UPLOAD A/N: For reasons which I feel do not require mentioning, this chapter has been altered so that it is now completely Fish-free.**

* * *

_**January 28th, 2012 **_

It's been a month. Sometimes I can't really believe it, but it's true. This is really happening.

Santana and I are… well, I don't know what are. Secret lady friends? Girlfriends but not quite?

I don't think I could put a name on it even if I tried. We spend heaps of time together and kiss and snuggle and make out. We argue. We laugh and goof off. Sometimes we even talk about all that deep, important 'life' stuff. We do it all.

Except never in front of people. Our entire relationship is confined within the walls of our house… mainly, our bedroom.

Sometimes I like to think of us as Romeo and Juliet… Well, maybe more like Juliet and Juliet. Our parents probably won't approve and might even try to keep us apart… but our feelings are just way too strong to ignore. It was just written in the stars. And somehow, despite all our differences and flaws, we work together.

When I'm with Santana, I feel like I belong.

But that's what makes it so hard to be with her as well. I don't like having to lie to everyone. I don't like sneaking around. It's so much pressure. It gives me a tummy ache. And I've never really been able to keep big secrets from the people around me… well, apart from the fact that I like girls.

I wondered if maybe that was some of the problem though. If I couldn't be honest with everyone about who I was, how was I ever going to feel ready to reveal to the world what Santana and I had? I needed to start small and work my way up.

There was this guy on the football team - Mike. We'd always been pretty good friends, ever since middle school, and I trusted him more than any of the other girls on the Cheerios. Last week, I decided to come out to him and… thankfully, he was really cool about it. He said it didn't matter what was in someone's pants, it's what's in their heart that counts. I hugged him tighter than I've ever hugged anyone before in my life. Nobody ever tells you that being _'popular'_ means you have a lot of _friends_ but hardly anyone you can rely on when things get tough.

Of course, I didn't say anything about _which_ girl I liked or _why _I suddenly felt the need to share my secret with him. But at least I had someone who knew I was gay and liked me regardless. It was a huge relief.

Anyways, today I was upstairs in our bedroom when I heard the doorbell. I already knew it was Mike because he'd texted me a little while before to let me know he was coming over. I excitedly bounded down the stairs, ready to open the door to greet him but Santana, who was in the kitchen at the time grabbing a snack, beat me to it.

I'm not sure why I did it. I think maybe I was just curious to see what would happen. None of my friends had come over since Maribel and Santana moved in - mostly because I asked them not to. I was always a bit scared and didn't want to risk being embarrassed by what Santana might say to them. I usually just went to their place instead if we wanted to hang out. But things had changed now. Santana wasn't nearly as intimidating. So I took a chance.

Instead of stepping in between them, I stealthily ducked to the side, behind the living room wall, and listened in on the interaction.

"Hey! Is Brittany home?" Mike asked brightly.

There was a long pause. It was awkward. I naturally assumed Santana was wearing her trademark glare and eyeing him suspiciously.

"Depends on who's asking."

"Um… I'm Mike. I go to school with her." Mike's voice was hesitant. "You're her sister? Santana, right?"

I cringed. Oh boy. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

"_Step-sister." _Santana growled. "I'm Brittany's _step-sister."_

"Oh. Yeah. That's what I meant."

Another uncomfortably long silence.

"So… is she here? She forgot her gym bag in my car when I gave her a ride home from school yesterday and I wanted to drop it off for her."

"Mhmm… Well, sorry, Britts is out. I think she went for a run or something. Looks like you'll have to come back another time, _Jackie." _Santana's voice was sickeningly sweet and tinged with venom at the same time.

"Uh… it's _Mike_."

"Whatever." I heard the front door slam and sighed heavily. Poor Mike.

Santana jumped in shock when I appeared from behind the wall and frowned at her.

"Fuck Britt. Where the hell did you come from? You scared the shit out of me."

I ignored her. "That wasn't very nice."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "What wasn't?"

"You shouldn't have been so mean to Mike. He was just being thoughtful."

She folded her arms across her chest stiffly. "Yeah well… I don't like him. He seems shifty."

"Mike? You think _Mike_ seems shifty?" I scoffed, disbelieving. That boy was the most honest, genuine - if not a bit dorky - guy I'd ever met. He was a total sweetheart.

"Yes _Mike._ Unless _Bruce Lee_ goes by another name?"

"Santana…" I warned.

"What B? He comes over here, with his slimy black emo bangs, unevenly-bleached, wannabe million-dollar smile and cheesy letterman jacket, acting all sweet and boy-next-door. How did you expect me to react? Ain't nobody gonna be creeping on my girl."

I held back a laugh. Jealous Santana was super cute. And I loved hearing her call me her '_girl'. _

"First of all, Mike can't help how greasy his hair is. It's a scalp condition. So you shouldn't make fun of him." She went to interrupt but I held my hand up. "Second, he has a girlfriend… And, third, I'm not your girl. I'm your _sister_. Remember?" I smirked teasingly.

Santana narrowed her eyes at me. Even if she knew I was just trying to mess with her, lately she really hated to be reminded of that fact. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm." I grinned. It was a challenge… and she accepted willingly.

Taking a step closer, she wrapped her arms around my waist and gave my ass a sharp squeeze.

I giggled and bit my lip.

"So _Sis… _If I suggested we go upstairs and get seriously naked right now that would be totally inappropriate… right?"

I tangled my hands into her hair, shivering slightly as she licked up the length of my neck. "Totally."

She hummed and made a move to push her hands up underneath the back of my t-shirt but I stepped back and smirked.

"Race you." I dared, already spinning on my heel to dart up the stairs.

I, of course, made it to our room first and as soon as she walked through the doorway, I shoved her down on my bed and she fell back with a light bounce, wide-eyed, clearly caught off guard.

For some reason, I felt the sudden urge to show her that she's not the only one who can be in control.

I kicked the door closed behind me before taking the few steps over to the bed and straddling her. I trailed my fingers down her forearms, circling her wrists and pinning them back behind her head relentlessly.

It was obvious that she was trying to hide a whimper and I smirked, unsure if it was a reaction of surprise or enjoyment but not really caring either way.

Wasting no time, I tugged off my own shirt and leant down to capture her lips. I made myself ignore the slight embarrassment that came with being so forceful. The image of her lying prone beneath me, lips pouty and half-open, eyes hooded with lust, was enough to rid me of my usual shyness. She was always the aggressor. Always the instigator.

But this time, I knew I had the upper hand.

"I didn't know you were the jealous type." I teased, reaching up to hold her wrists with one hand and slipping the other under her shirt to scratch down her side just a bit rougher than I normally would.

She looked absolutely scandalized. "Jealous? Of _Jet Li_? Please."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh really? Then why did you make such a fuss? And why are your cheeks turning pink now?"

Santana scowled, squirming in protest beneath my firm grip. "I was just protecting what's mine."

I scoffed in amusement. "What's yours? Oh Honey. I think you've got things a bit mixed up. You, are _mine._"

She raised her eyebrows at me challengingly as if to say, _prove it._

We engaged in a brief staring competition. I was in no mood to back down though. "Don't move. Or else."

She jutted her chin out defiantly. "Or else what?"

Grinding my hips down into her, slow and firm, I nipped at her exposed collarbone and heard her partially swallowed groan. "Or else I'll get off and leave you here to finish this by yourself." To further accentuate my point, I snaked my free hand down between our bodies and lightly cupped her center. She bucked up instantly. "Clear?"

Santana nodded furiously and craned her neck up in request. I granted her wish and reattached our lips for a hot, languid kiss.

When our tongues began to play at the entrance of her mouth, I released my grip on her hands and waited to see if she would follow my rules. A few seconds later, when she hadn't moved, I rewarded her by pressing my fingers down between her legs. She gasped, lower back arching into me.

It was so easy.

I sat back to expertly remove her shirt and unsnap her bra, and then shifted over to slide off her jeans and underwear. The expression on her face was almost comical as I climbed back onto her. I knew she was trying to figure out what I was planning.

"Stay still." I requested, breathy against her ear.

A small groan of frustration escaped her as I allowed my hands to wander all over her body, running up the tops of her thighs, across the slightly quivering muscles in her stomach, palming at her breasts. She pushed into my touch and bit at her bottom lip. Her body felt incredible. I could never get enough. And I was spiraling. I wanted to be everywhere at once.

But I had to maintain control.

Aware that she was fidgeting and writhing far too much for someone who wasn't supposed to be moving, I reluctantly withdrew my hands and placed them either side of her head on the mattress.

"What did I just say?"

She blinked at me, obviously confused.

"Don't. Move." I repeated threateningly, even as I trailed a lone finger between her breasts and down her abdomen.

She shivered but nodded obediently.

With a pleased smirk, I shuffled down her body to lie between her legs. I'd been in this position before. On several occasions actually. But the power this time, however trivial, was thrilling and I was definitely enjoying the head-rush.

I tickled my fingertips over hips and up the skin of her inner thighs before pushing her legs further apart.

Her hands gripped at the covers on either side of her body when her body jerked with anticipation. The knowledge that she was struggling hard to obey and not move or touch me was enough to get me pretty damn worked up as well.

Slowly, I leant in and allowed my breath to make contact with her center.

She whimpered and twitched, but otherwise held her position.

In response, I dragged my tongue over the inside of her thighs, sucking and biting at the skin closest to where she wanted me to be. I slid my hands underneath her to grope at her ass.

I could see how turned on she was. And it was consuming the air all around me. I flinched at the realization that instead of making her wait, I was having more trouble suppressing my own urge to dive straight in.

"Britt…" Her voice was strained and pleading.

I grinned to myself. "Are you mine?"

I glanced up to see her nodding down at me, eyes clouded with desire.

"Say it."

She scrunched her nose up and pushed her head back into the mattress. Submission was obviously a bit of a chore for her usually dominant personality. I loved it.

"Come on, San. Say it or I'll stop."

Still obviously irritated at having to give in completely, she sighed and slung an arm over her face. She mumbled something. Even though I was pretty sure I knew what it was, I felt the need to push her further.

I dropped my head and licked over her clit with the lightest touch I could manage. She moaned and her whole body tensed. "What was that? I didn't hear you."

Panting, she lifted her head to look at me again. "I'm yours." She growled.

"Yeah you are." I gloated with a smug smile, finally relenting to roughly thrust my tongue into her.

She arched almost violently and grunted in surprise. "Fuck Britt."

I hummed against her, loving her now familiar taste and the feeling of her surrounding me, entirely at my mercy, begging for me to give her what she so desperately craved. Such a change from the Santana I once knew. The girl who always exuded arrogance and superiority. The biting, vicious queen of insults.

And now, she was totally my bitch.

I slid into her wet heat quickly, taking far too much pleasure in all her noises and frantic, erratic movements. I was already throbbing with need.

I'd barely even fallen into a steady rhythm, bringing my thumb around to circle her clit, before she was coming undone. Through my daze, I kept up the motion of my tongue, feeling her tighten and pulse around me unexpectedly. The low groan and the way she pumped her hips was a dead giveaway. I don't think she'd ever come that fast. It was only like two or three minutes. Record time.

I brought her down, cockiness swelling rapidly in my chest. Damn, I was good. And Santana clearly enjoyed being dominated far more than she wanted to let on.

Maybe I needed to take control more often.

When she was finished trembling, I kissed my way up her body and snuggled into her neck.

"Shut up."

My delighted smile only grew against her skin. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah but I know you want to… I just… I couldn't help it, okay?" She tried to turn away from me to bury her face in the covers and hide her blush. I tugged her back though, rooting her body in place with my own weight.

"I won't say a word. I swear." I lifted up onto my elbow to make a zipping motion across my mouth. I didn't need to boast about how awesome I was. From what just happened, I figured I'd already more than proved that.

She chuckled and wrapped her arms around me. "What the hell are you doing to me?" She mused mostly to herself.

I pressed a kiss into her shoulder and settled closer against her.

There was a long moment of contented silence. Despite the persistent ache that always accompanied going down on Santana, I was happy to wait as long as she needed to recover. I knew she was good for it. We almost never left each other hanging.

But she caught me off guard when instead of abruptly switching our positions and trapping me underneath her body like she usually would, she tilted her head down to whisper quietly.

"Do you know why I kept getting in your bed at night?" She asked, running her hands through my hair and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

I peeked up at her curiously. "No. Tell me."

She smiled. "I wanted to touch you so bad… but I kept chickening out. You look so beautiful when you sleep." Slowly, she turned our bodies so that she could start gently lowering my sweatpants.

I giggled and raised an eyebrow at her, blushing just a tiny bit. "Only when I sleep?"

She finished removing my sweats and underwear, gesturing for me to rise up off the bed so she could unhook my bra. When we were both naked and she lowered her bare skin to meet mine, the sensation warm and tingly and never failing to make my heart twinge, she brushed some hair from my face and stared intensely.

"No… All the time, B." She kissed the shy smile from my lips. "All the time."

* * *

_**February 15th, 2012**_

Yesterday was Valentine's Day. And for the first year ever, I had a valentine.

When I got home from cheerleading practice, I went straight upstairs to our bedroom, excited to surprise Santana with my handmade card and the totally cliché silver, heart-shaped locket I bought her, but she wasn't there.

I called out to her. I looked under the bed. I searched every other room in the house. Nothing.

After I finally gave up, disappointed that I might not get to spend the next parent-free few hours with her, I went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. That's when I spotted the yellow post-it on the fridge.

_Get changed into something warm and meet me in the backyard._

I plucked it off and frowned. Why was she waiting for me out there?

With a shrug, I followed her instructions, putting on some extra warm sweatpants and a thick hoodie, and made my way out the back.

When I opened the door, I gasped in surprise.

Despite being a crisp winter, it had yet to snow in our town this year. Which is why I was so astonished to find our backyard covered in a generous layer of white, fluffy goodness.

Sparkling flakes coated the ground, danced on the tips of the pink and yellow roses in our flowerbed and sat atop the small, round shrubs lining the back fence like vanilla fudge on mint ice-cream. In the middle of the yard there was a giant sculpture made of ice – two dolphins, standing on their tails with their noses touching, making up the shape of a heart.

Off to my right there was a perfect snowman, complete with a carrot nose, big button eyes, scarf and top-hat. I giggled. He looked far too happy to see me. Even if he didn't have a mouth.

Just when I was about to shift closer, Santana stepped out from behind the large figure and smiled.

"Hey." She greeted softly.

"Hi." I moved over to her and collected her gloved hands in mine. The tip of her nose was tinged pink, matching the faint glow on her cheeks. She must have been waiting out there in the cold for ages.

"Do you like it?" She blushed, tilting her face down shyly and letting a few dark strands curtain her face.

"It's beautiful." I smiled, reaching beneath her chin to lift her face back up. I dropped a quick kiss on her cool lips and she grinned proudly. "What's his name?" I asked, nodding my head towards the snowman.

"What do you want it to be?"

I thought for a minute and then brightened when I thought of something appropriate. "Michelangelo."

She made a weird face. "Like the painter?"

"No. Like the Ninja Turtle." I booped her nose and giggled.

"Okay…" She just shook her head in amusement. I knew she didn't always totally understand the things I said. But somehow, she still _got_ me. "Anyways… I know that you were sad that we didn't really get a proper winter this year… So I thought I'd bring the snow to you."

"That's amazing San…" I paused for a moment, tugging my lip between my teeth in thought. "But how did you get it to snow just in _our_ backyard?"

She scrunched her nose up playfully and shrugged. "Magic."

I pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing her hips. "Thank you."

We stood there for a little while, just holding each other while the light breeze whipped at our skin before she abruptly pulled back and grabbed my hands. "Did you see the dolphins?"

"Mhmmm."

"Did you see what it says at the bottom?" She pressed eagerly.

I furrowed my brow at her. "No…"

She bounced onto her toes and dragged me over to the giant sculpture. I had no idea she could get so giddy and excited. It was completely adorable.

"See." She pointed to the base of the figure.

I peered down at the words carved into the ice - _I've flipped for you._

I couldn't control the snort of laughter that left my nose and I covered my face with my palms to muffle it.

It was so corny.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Britt." She beamed, clearly pleased with herself.

I turned back to her, took one look at the genuine, adoring glint in her eyes and hastily scooped her up into my arms, twirling us in place as she squealed.

When I finally planted her feet back on the ground, I pressed another kiss to her lips, much longer and firmer than the last. And eventually when we parted, panting slightly, I held her face in my hands and allowed the smile to soften on my lips.

"I love you." I certainly hadn't planned to say it then but nothing had ever felt more right. I'd been aware of it, bubbling beneath the surface for days. I knew what it was. There was no other possible explanation for how I felt. And in that moment, I didn't even care if it was too soon or Santana might not be ready to say it back… I just wanted her to know.

After a beat, she took a deep breath and nuzzled at my cheek, the faintest hint of tears tugging at her voice. "I love you, too."

* * *

_**February 22nd, 2012 **_

After Valentine's Day, I think we both realized that we needed to tell our parents about what was going on. It'd been months since our relationship changed into something more serious and now, with this whole 'love' thing, it didn't seem like the sort of information we could hide much longer from the people we shared a house with.

I felt guilty sneaking around. And I agreed with Santana when she reasoned that there was nothing wrong with what we were doing. We shouldn't be ashamed of it… no matter how unconventional the situation may seem to everyone else.

It was fate. You just can't help who you fall in love with.

So, when we'd talked over what we wanted to say to our parents at least a hundred times… and wimped out almost a dozen more… we finally plucked up the courage and took the leap one night at dinner.

"So girls, how was school today?" My Dad asked casually through half a mouthful of salad. It was such a generic 'Dad question.'

"Fine." I replied pleasantly enough. I pushed around some of the food on my plate, feeling the rapid beating of my heart in every vein in my body.

"Yeah, it was okay." Santana shrugged beside me.

For a moment, I thought about calling it off again. There were just so many reasons that telling our parents the truth was a bad idea. Would they separate us? Would Santana have to go live with her estranged father that she hated to even talk about? Would they look at us differently? Think we're abnormal or perverted?

I shuddered at the notion.

But I couldn't fight the way I felt about Santana. I love everything about her. The bitchy, fierce, passionate parts that shone through when we fought or when she was super turned on and wanted to get me naked as fast as possible... And all of the soft, sweetness that made her a total pushover. Like when she would pretend to hate the Disney movies that I like and kick up a big fuss whenever I asked her to watch them with me, even though I'm pretty sure she secretly likes them too. I've felt the little shake in her chest when she giggles beside me… and I _know_ I saw a tear in her eye when we watched _The Fox and the Hound _last week_._

I love all of it. And I know she feels the same.

That's why I couldn't give her one of those special telepathic looks we seemed to have been using a lot lately, or pretend I had a stomach ache just so I could go back upstairs and put this whole ordeal off a little longer. I had to be brave. If I wanted to be with Santana properly, to be able to hold her hand when we go on family outings or snuggle with her in the living room without the fear of someone walking in, I had to follow this through.

"Dad… Maribel… We need to talk to you guys about something." My voice was shaky and unsure.

"What is it honey?" Maribel asked, concerned.

I glanced over at Santana and threaded our fingers together beneath the table. "Santana and I…"

She nodded at me with a small smile. I knew it was her way of encouraging me to continue… but I felt frozen.

I cleared my throat and tried again. "Uh… Santana and I…"

There was a long pause.

"Santana and you what?" My Dad chimed in, placing his cutlery down on the table.

"We… um…" The words were right there, weighing my tongue down like thick honey. _We want to be together. We're in love. We love each other. _

"What is it Brittany?" My Dad questioned again, his gaze becoming more and more solemn.

I swallowed an unsteady breath and blinked a few times.

Santana squeezed my hand and nodded again.

I parted my lips to finally speak up but much to my dismay, the sound refused to come out. My shoulders slumped in defeat.

And just as I was about to shake my head, grin sheepishly and tell them not to worry about it, I heard Santana boldly step in.

"We're getting it on."

My head snapped towards her. The table fell into a disbelieving silence.

"What?" My Dad spluttered. "Is that some sort of sick joke?"

I felt Santana steel herself, the taut flex of her leg muscles apparent beneath our joined hands.

"No. It's not a joke. Brittany and I aren't sisters… We never were... And somewhere along the way, stuff happened… and we realized that we had feelings for each other." The familiar, practiced phrases pierced the air and I had to force down the proud smile I wanted to give her. She was fearless. "It's not something we were looking for… It's certainly not something we _planned_ to happen… But you can't help who you're attracted to. And we don't think there's anything wrong with that."

Dad and Maribel were staring at her like she'd just whipped out a magic ring, shouted _Fire!_ and summoned Captain Planet to the dinner table.

I flinched and sunk into myself self-consciously. "Please don't be mad… we just wanted you guys to know the truth… we really care about each other and… w-we hope that you can understand."

I felt Santana's eyes on me and I drew some comfort from the deep brown. Maybe if they kicked us out, we could run away together and live in cave where no-one could find us. I'm sure we'd be okay. She'd just have to learn to survive without her curling iron and iPod.

"Hang on… let's just reel this in for a minute." My Dad ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair, a pronounced set of lines gathering on his forehead. "You're gay?"

"But I thought you girls hated each other?" Maribel jumped in with her own thoughts before either of us could answer.

"Uh-"

"I knew it seemed quiet lately." She went on, talking mostly to herself and shaking her head in disbelief. "Too quiet... But I just thought you two might have gotten over the novelty of fighting every waking minute of the day... That, or some sort of blackmail scheme. I wouldn't have put it past Santana." Maribel tilted her head to the side in thought.

"Brittany, when did you stop liking boys? You always used to say that you were going to marry _Aladdin _when you grew up…" My Dad looked completely thrown.

They both did.

But the odd questions just kept on coming.

"When did this even start?"

"Is this because I won't raise your allowance, Santana?" Maribel piped up again. "Because if I find out that you've convinced poor Brittany to help play a prank on us, just so you can manipulate me into giving you even _more_ money for too-short skirts and too-high heels, I swear to God I'm going to…" I didn't understand the rest of what she said because she started muttering in Spanish.

I turned to Santana for clarification but she just shot me an equally confused shrug.

Maribel continued to make what I imagined were heated death threats and my Dad was opening and closing his mouth like a pained goldfish that was air-drowning, until eventually Santana stood up and thrust her chair back abruptly. The screech broke their tangent of accusations and misunderstandings.

"Guys! Stop! We're serious about this! It's not a joke. It's not a prank. We're not trying to mess with you. I _promise!_ Yes, we both like girls. Yes, we realize this is sudden and kind of hard to understand. But Britts and I love each other. That's just how it is. So can you please calm down enough to at least let us _try _and talk to you both about it?"

Hearing her speak that way – so assertive and courageous - made my heart swell with happiness in spite of the sheer terror that consumed the rest of my body.

Dad and Maribel were taken aback by the outburst but did appear to concede some of their hysteria.

After Santana huffed and sat back down, there was a long, _long_ pause. Minutes. Maybe hours. I'm not really sure. I just held tight to her hand and prayed that we were going to make it out of this conversation alive.

Finally, Dad sighed. "Alright. If you girls really have those kinds of feelings for each other, I guess we have a lot to discuss."

I don't really remember what was said after that. It was all a huge blur. I just remember how hot my face was the entire time.

I know that Dad and Maribel didn't get mad. They seemed concerned and shot each other a lot of worried looks, but they didn't yell at us.

Well, maybe Dad raised his voice a little when he asked Santana if we were _actually_ sleeping together like she said. I don't think he appreciated the idea of his only daughter getting all naked and sweaty with someone else underneath his roof. Maribel cringed in agreement. It brought back all the memories of the times we'd almost been caught. Trying to keep quiet in the middle of the night, sneaking in a quick session despite Maribel or Dad knocking on our door and calling us down for dinner, frantically stripping and jumping each other whenever they left the house to go shopping on weekends… My tummy lurched uncomfortably.

Santana was amazing though. Even though I added a nod or a brief comment here and there, she carried out the conversation with a sort of composure and reasoning that I didn't know her capable of. Dad and Maribel were slowly convinced of the idea that we were thrown together at an age that allowed our innate sexual and romantic urges to override any possible sisterly feelings that may have developed. If we had been step-sisters since we were babies and had grown-up together, things might have been different. But we were teenagers when we met, already old enough to form adult relationships and fall in love with whoever our hearts chose.

Once they came to the understanding that what had happened between us wasn't really that wrong or abnormal (and once my Dad had stopped asking if I was _sure_ that I liked girls – I guess Maribel already knew or had managed to figure out on her own that Santana was gay because she didn't say anything about it), the rest of our little talk was much simpler.

Dad and Maribel carefully agreed that it was okay for us to date, but we had to expect that most people might not understand or accept our unique connection. After all, we lived in a relatively small town and the idea of two girls in an intimate relationship was already enough to cause quite a stir.

As another provision, we also weren't allowed to lock our bedroom door anymore and we had to promise to keep it _PG_ for as long as we lived in the same house.

I didn't like that rule. But I knew things could have been a _lot_ worse.

And from the devious sideways smile Santana gave me, I knew we were just going to find other, more creative ways to get our cuddle on. We had been awesome ninjas with our sexy times up until that point. I knew a few more rules couldn't really stop us.

Our parents didn't have to know that though.

By the end of the discussion, I think they were both still kinda weirded out by the whole thing. But it was a start. And nobody had been shot or kicked out or sent to live in a mental institution. They didn't accuse us of being sick and twisted and they didn't put into place any restraining orders that wouldn't allow us to be within 50-feet of each other. So I'd say it was a pretty successful attempt at letting them in on our secret.

I could already tell there were going to be more talks like this to come. Our situation was awfully complicated. But for now, things were definitely moving in the right direction.

* * *

_**June 24th, 2012 **_

It's been almost six months since Santana and I started dating. And sometimes when I look back on how we got here, it all feels so surreal.

From hostile acquaintances, to bickering roommates, to bed buddies, to friends with benefits, to secret girlfriends and finally, to real girlfriends. We went through a lot to be where we are now. But the journey was definitely worth it.

I've never been surer about anything in my life. I love Santana. We know each other inside out. And we make each other happy.

I know what kind of mood she's in just by the music she's listening to or the magazine she's reading. And she can always tell if I've had a bad day or a good day by what color t-shirt I change into after I get home from school.

I know the childhood memories that match all of her scars, and that she prefers the burn of chili on her tongue over the sweetness of chocolate. I know things about her that she's never told anyone else.

And with each new discovery, I find myself falling for her just a little bit more. I can't imagine my life without her.

Our parents know that now too.

They may have been skeptical and apprehensive at first, but they gradually came to accept the special connection that we share. I mean, don't get me wrong, I think they still get sorta uncomfortable if we hold hands or cuddle in front of them. But that's to be expected. I realize that it's a process. It will take some time before they can fully embrace our relationship in the physical sense.

After all, even _we_ thought how we felt was weird at first.

But we'll get there.

I told Mike about us not long after we told our parents. He, once again, took it like a champ. He actually laughed and said he kind of figured there was something up that day that Santana answered the door and gave him a mouthful. He even asked if we wanted to go on a double date with him and his girlfriend, Tina. I don't know how he got to be so understanding. But I wasn't going to question it. It was a total lifesaver in what could have been a massive disaster.

I hope that we can be friends - or as Mike likes to put it 'Lesbros'- forever.

Apart from him though, Santana and I ultimately agreed not to tell any of our other friends about us. Not while we were still in high school anyways. Although I had always thought it would be an inevitable stepping stone, it made sense to just keep things to ourselves for the time being. They'd never understand. They were just kids. They were barely open to the idea of someone liking an obscure band or wearing clothes that weren't considered to be 'fashionable', let alone two girls, whose parents just happened to be married, wanting to date.

Our bond was too complicated. And it seemed a bit unnecessary to start laying our personal life out on the table when we didn't even have that much time left with those people anyways. Besides Mike, I didn't really see myself maintaining friendships with any of my fellow Cheerios or 'popular' friends after graduation. And Santana admitted that she'd never been that close to anyone at her school either. So we let it be.

Instead, we're focused on the future. Because right now, that's looking pretty damn bright.

We're going to the same college.

Crazy huh?

We didn't exactly plan it. It was just super lucky that we were both interested in and applied at some of the same places. And then I got a cheerleading scholarship to the same school Santana had been accepted to in Arizona, and we knew it was perfect. I guess it really was fate.

We'll tell people we get close to. I know that it will probably be a risk no matter how open-minded they seem.

But we already decided that if someone we don't know too well asks us why we both have the same last name, we're just going to say we're married.

And don't tell anyone, but Santana promised me that in a few years, that won't be a lie.

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it guys! =) Hope you all enjoyed that little adventure.**

**Many thanks to my ever reliable, ever lovely Beta!Jay. And many thanks to all of you for reading!**

**Side note: I now have a livejournal for just in case. If this place decides to go on another crazy smut witch hunt, all my fics will be backed up there. Check my profile page for the link!**


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